


The Zombie War

by 6gun_Sally



Series: Turnabout Apocalypse [2]
Category: World War Z - Max Brooks, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Army, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Citizen Militia, Death, Decapitation, Disembowelment, Dogs, Explosions, Explosives, Helicopters, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Improvised weapons, Infantry, Infantry Battles, Mass Death, Military Working Dogs, Multi, Near Death, Setting Zombies on Fire, Weapons, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombie Hunters, Zombies, death by shovel, domestic warfare, marching cadence, mass burial, small arms, walking dead - Freeform, zombie war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23891929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6gun_Sally/pseuds/6gun_Sally
Summary: Phoenix and his family get some respite following the Great Panic.  Then the dead come storming the beaches of Southern California.  Meanwhile, LT. Colonel Edgeworth, USA, returns to Southern California to assist in training the local militias in the art of zombie disposal.  Will they liberate Southern California?  Part II of Turnabout Apocalypse, how our gang fares in the fight against the scourge.
Relationships: Ayasato Mayoi | Maya Fey/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright, Garyuu Kyouya | Klavier Gavin/Odoroki Housuke | Apollo Justice, Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma/Shiryuu Rou | Shi-Long Lang, Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright
Series: Turnabout Apocalypse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718842
Comments: 24
Kudos: 11
Collections: The Zombie Apocalypse is Nigh





	1. Uninvited

## Chapter 1

# Uninvited

# 

### 

  
**May 15, 2053  
Stand Up! SoCal  
Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

_[Stand Up! SoCal is a bustle of activity this week. This is my first visit since last year, when I first met Phoenix Wright and his friends at Stand Up! SoCal. The excitement surrounding the compound is related to preparations for the 30th Anniversary of the Liberation of California. This will include a dedication of a war memorial commemorating the July 4th Battle of Santa Monica in 2022._

_A lot of these guys involved in Stand Up! SoCal fought for California during The Zombie War—in state militias, neighborhood watches, street gangs, the Army…. Phoenix Wright is front and center, a beacon for the citizens of the Southern California Greater Metropolis._

_He was up there to do a practice run of what later came to be known as the ‘Independence Day Speech’. I'd never heard him speak publicly before this.]_

Good afternoon, SoCal Greater Metro! It is humbling to be invited up here on this, the thirtieth Anniversary of the Liberation of Southern California, and pay homage to those brave men and women that exemplify the spirit of survival, perseverance, and never say die that makes SoCal my favorite place, and unquestionably worth fighting for.

To talk about the liberation of Southern California, you have to go back to the beginning—to 2020. The year the world ended. In 2019, we saw African Rabies spread in the periphery, in the towns, in the prisons, in schools, and neighborhoods—we saw it close America down. It shut down the world. I couldn’t believe it was happening, even while it was happening around us.

In some parts of the world, it had started much earlier. Far away and exotic places—Israel, South Africa… Myanmar…. Ku'rain… Too far away to concern us. It was hard enough dealing with the ruin in the wake of the panic here—the idea of war wasn't something any of us were ready to deal with.

In 2020 we learned that war is not going to wait for you to be ready—but only the ready would survive. In the summer of 2020 something happened that no one had expected. They came out of the ocean. They came out in hordes—slow, unyielding, untiring… We were alone and exposed.

We scrambled our citizens in the summer of 2021 to secure the beach heads—Malibu, Santa Monica, Terminal Island—they were ours to defend for the sake of our California. So for the sake of our California, we the people of California, stood together to stop the hordes…

[Phoenix Wright's speeches have been collected and published by DeStRes Ltd., this excerpt has been included with their permission.] 

_[It's almost two hours later when I find him alone, in the humble hut he's claimed for him and his wife. He welcomes me like an old friend.]_

_**[Busy?]**_

_[He looks at me and laughs, it's hard to believe this is the same guy stirring the crowd only a couple of hours ago.]_

It's a big deal around here. There are similar celebrations around the world, I'm sure—this one is ours.

_**[Looking back on that time, thirty years on—what stands out the most from it?]**_

To be honest, I don't like thinking about it. The greatest relief is being here thirty years on. Having Maya with me thirty years on. Seeing Trucy with her own children.

Living in hiding during the Panic was one thing—by the time the war got to us, it was enough to wake up alive every morning. But it was a scary time time. I lived in constant fear. Fear for my neighbors and family and friends. Fear for the guys on either side of me, fighting the scourge right there with me.

_[He pauses momentarily and frowns.]_

I don't think anyone really likes to think about it. And the things that stand out—well… These things aren't usually the kinds of things worth bringing up…

_**[I was told to ask you about Santa Monica. You lead a regiment on the beachhead in the summer of 2022, part of the resistance in Old LA, is that right?]** _

_[His glare is hard enough that I'm worried this may be our last interview. Despite the look, he still smiles.]_

Yeah. That happened, more or less.

_**[I'm sorry, Mister Wright, I don't mean to—]** _

No. I get it. I understand. You guys are young, you didn't have to live through it. 

There's this idea that if we look back on the past, if we study the history, that we learn more from that past, that history—those mistakes.

With that being said, I'm sure I don't have to point out that once we began to fight wars on the world stage—the First World War was supposed to end all wars—we kinda never stopped…it happened again. Many times again.

_[He shook his head.]_

Even in the face of a common enemy—one outside of race or religion or nationality or _humanity_... Even in the face of a common enemy it took years for us to get it together. When I think about the liberation of California—manning the beachheads… I'm reminded of the worst of it. Feeling like we were on our own. That we were the only thing that stood against the complete and total annihilation of us.

_[He smiles again.]_

I'm sorry, is that not what you're looking for?

###### 

  
**  
June 23, 2021  
Ivy University Compound  
Los Angeles, California**

###### 

It was the closest thing to a family gathering they could muster. Phoenix stood back feeling Trucy's hand in his as Lang paced the floor. He just got back—from a little ways North and inland. He'd been out there, fighting in the hills and the woods… Those dark places where they just seemed to keep coming.

__

It showed in the lines carved into a face that was too young. The fatigue and the pain of old injuries. But Lang's fire still blazed, he wasn't going to stop. Not until it was over.

__

"We're seeing them coming in droves out of the suburbs," he was saying, "Doc says it's those families that self-isolated. Just holed up in their houses. He's not a hundred percent sure how it's spreading out there, but in the last couple years we've seen an extended incubation period where someone is infectious long before there are any symptoms. Doc says by the time the first one turns it’s already too late..."

__

Maya met his eye from across the room. It had ravaged Kurain Village bad. She and Pearl had been with the group that left early. Early enough to be deemed safe—a little over two years—but it was frightening to consider how close they'd come.

__

Lang could be counted on to pass on the news whenever he came back—and he seemed to try and come back regularly, every couple months if he could. No one really understood why—then Franziska got pregnant.

__

They were going to get married. He wanted to see his baby come into the world. Phoenix shuddered at the thought of bringing a life into this dreary and hopeless new world.

__

"We had some troubling news from up North as well—Miles is up there—those of you that remember Miles Edgeworth—he's a Colonel or something with the Army," Lang continued to pace.

__

Phoenix scanned the group for Franziska, she was staring at the floor hands wrapped protectively over her extended belly that seemed incongruously large on a frame that was too thin for a pregnant woman. No one had heard from Miles in over a year now—so Lang's casual mention of him was felt poignantly among the tightly knit group.

__

"He made sure our units were included on the intelligence briefings ," Lang continued, "Apparently, they're seeing it in Japan and China and some parts of the Med—Italy and Spain. But the ghouls have started to come up from the ocean."

__

Lang paused and rubbed his face, the first acknowledgement of just how tired he was after this last tour of duty with the local Militia he was fighting with.

__

"We're at risk here too… Cruise ships, merchant shipping, the Navy—it's been so long, we believed that all of them that went into the ocean would be taken care of by nature. They're slow, and water—especially the deep ocean—makes for a formidable crossing. But they've been heading for the nearest shores for years now. It's only a matter of time before they're crawling out of the Pacific here…"

__

Usually these gatherings were sort of pleasant. Lang and the other guys in the militia usually came and went as a group—the Gavin brothers,Klavier and Kristoph, Clay, Daryaan, Maggey… It was one of the benefits of the small, locally organized military.

__

But this new threat to the beaches left Phoenix scared and shaken. He left without a chance to talk to Lang or the other soldiers and made his way back to the small hut he'd scraped together for himself and the girls.

__

Trucy let go of his hand and walked ahead with Pearl, leaving him alone for Maya. She'd been subdued most of the day, and he'd been busy with the endless scavenging and re-enforcing that he and the few other men that weren't fighting engaged in.

__

He was exhausted—that was just life now—but the creeping dread of Lang's news weighed heavily on him. He turned when Maya slid her arms around his waist, while his own arm found her shoulders.

__

"What are you thinking about, Nick?"

__

"I just…" but he was too shaken to say it aloud. He drew her close instead.

__

"I'm scared too, Nick," she said.

__

###### 

__

__

  
**May 16, 2053  
Stand Up! SoCal  
Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

__

_  
_

###### 

__

_[Maya Fey Wright is beautiful. Even her eyes smile when she looks at you. I can see why Phoenix married her…. She greets me like a friend, in the same charming, disarming way she'd done the last time we talked. That was more than a year ago.]_

__

_**[Long time no see.]** _

__

Oh, it's fine…. When you have a few years behind you, they don't seem so long. Nick said you were coming back—for the dedication of the memorial…. I can't believe it's taken this long…

__

_**[Why the wait?]** _

__

Resources, money… Who knows…. I'm just glad it's finally happening. I know it's a very important project for Nick.

__

_**[Is this memorial just for the battle of Santa Monica?]** _

__

It's for everyone, really... We lost sixty-three at Santa Monica…. Over four hundred if you count the trek East…. Not to mention the millions upon millions that were lost before we even knew about what was happening …. I really think Nick's doing it for Los Angeles…. Because the city we had is gone. That world is gone…

__

_**[And Edgeworth?]** _

__

_[She looks at me, but balks at the question.]_ Yeah…. He won’t talk about it. But I think there's truth to that too…

__

###### 

__

__

**January 2, 2022**  
**University Compound**  
**Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

__  


###### 

__

"Miles?"

__

Miles Edgeworth stood in the doorway with a military duffel hooked on one shoulder. His hair was cropped short in accordance with military regulation, and while Phoenix had always envied his feathery locks, the military fade did more to show away the planes and angles of his still very handsome face.

__

Miles smiled—rare enough even before Zack had ruined their world—and Phoenix felt his throat close up. He lifted his arms and offered an embrace. He wasn't sure he'd be able to speak.

__

"Phoenix Wright," Miles mumbled into his ear as they held each other.

__

Phoenix cleared his throat and stepped back into the house, "Well, get inside stranger."

__

Miles stepped into the small abode gazing around in open curiosity. Phoenix motioned for him to follow him into a cozy sitting room that doubled as workspace for domestic needs—like yarn making and quilting. Hobbies that had become a necessary part of living in the post-panic world.

__

"Maya!" Phoenix motioned for him to sit, "Maya, guess who just showed up!"

__

Phoenix joined him on the sagging sofa—a relic salvaged from the old days—unable to look away from his old friend.

__

"Wow, Miles," he said running a hand through his spikes, "You made it!"

__

Miles looked shy despite the tough guy affect being a professional soldier lent him.

__

"You haven't really changed," Miles said, "A little worse for wear, I think…"

__

Phoenix beamed at him, "Your hair looks like shit Miles—Why would you let them do that to you?"

__

They laughed together uncomfortably only pausing when Maya waddled in. She was eight months pregnant and the cramped space they lived in made it difficult for her to easily join them in the tiny living room. Phoenix and Miles both stood to offer her their seats and she laughed gamely as she sidled her way into the room and settled into the sofa.

__

"Is that your way of telling me I'm gigantic?"

__

Phoenix kissed her forehead and waved off her comment, "Sit Miles, you're probably tired."

__

Miles sat reluctantly only to get trapped in Maya's eager embrace, "Oh my God! Look at this guy—Nick! He's even hotter than he used to be! What the heck, Miles!"

__

Miles actually blushed and glanced over and met his eye as he leaned over so Maya could kiss him on the cheek. Phoenix felt his breath hitch again, he tried to laugh it off, but he was startled by the squealing blurs of Trucy and Pearl.

__

"Uncle Miles!" It was crowded in the small room and Phoenix was forced to back out further from the room when they rushed in to bury Miles in hugs and affection. Maya had to lean away from them, cradling her belly and laughing.

__

Phoenix stood by watching them smiling through his tears.

__

"I didn't know she was pregnant," Miles told him when they were alone, walking across the compound to find Franziska and Shi-Long Lang, "Congratulations."

__

Phoenix smiled mutely in reply, "I'm just glad you made it—when we didn't hear from you, I figured you weren't coming."

__

"I wouldn't miss it, Phoenix," those gray eyes met his directly and Phoenix stopped walking.

__

"Miles…"

__

Miles took him by the arm and led him toward the nearest building—it happened to be a converted storage shed that they'd reapportioned for grain storage. Miles dragged him into the shade of the squat building and pulled him toward the wall.

__

"I'm sorry, I haven't written…" Miles said shaking his head.

__

Phoenix leaned back against the wall and smiled, "Miles… It's okay… It's not as if the pony express is running like it used to…"

__

Miles looked away from him, turning his head so that Phoenix could only stare at his profile, silhouetted by the mid-day sun. He was quiet for too long.

__

"Miles, is something wrong?"

__

Miles turned back to him, shaking his head, and that's when Phoenix noticed his tears.

__

"Miles…?"

__

Miles pressed him into the wall and leaned in to kiss him. Phoenix didn't fight him, be he didn't reciprocate either. He could feel the trembling of his lips, his tears wet and warm and all too real dripped onto his face.

__

Miles backed away from him shaking his head again, "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"

__

Phoenix swallowed, all he could do was stare. Miles gave a choking sob, his breath came in trembling spurts. Phoenix was frozen—afraid to move. Miles chuckled awkwardly through his tears.

__

"What's wrong? Nick? You usually have something to say."

__

Phoenix swallowed again and looked down at his shoes, "I'm getting married, Miles…"

__

Miles nodded emphatically, "I know… I'm sorry…"

__

"Shit, Miles…"

__

"I thought…" he laughed bitterly, still choked with emotion, "I'd thought I'd show up and you'd take one look at me and…"

__

He laughed again and stepped away from him. Phoenix raised his head to stare into those stormy gray eyes—he swallowed again, "Miles…"

__

Miles turned away from him again and dragged his hands and sleeves unceremoniously over his face. Phoenix stared at him, unable to budge from where he stood. He startled when his own tears fell and reached up to stop them with a hand.

__

Phoenix chuckled and rubbed his neck, “Okay... That happened... Now what?”

__

Miles wiped his face and sniffed, “It’s okay... I’m... I’m good now...”

__

“Oh, that’s all you needed?” Phoenix pushed off of the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets.

__

Miles laughed in spite of himself, “No, I mean... I’m sorry Nick...”

__

“Wipe your face or Franziska will notice,” Phoenix said and walked out of the shade of the building.

__

“Phoenix, I’m sorry I—“

__

“That haircut really sucks!” Phoenix said without turning to look at him.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://app.photobucket.com/u/6gunsally/p/49e16f92-58e1-42ec-bc97-2a996a03420a)  
> 
> 
> In my poor dorky little mind, a crap illustration of the “haircut”


	2. None But the Brave

## Chapter 2

# None But the Brave

### 

**May 16, 2053  
Stand Up! SoCal  
Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

**_[Is that what finally changed your mind?]_ **

I mean that certainly was a motivation for it. But what really got me was the news about them crawling up out of the ocean.

There was a scientist… I think he was in the Navy or something like that, but he'd been an oceanographer—whatever that is—anyway, people were starting to doubt it was going to happen in California. 

We counted the ships lost in the panic. And we studied the ways, speed, and trajectory of their arrival in places like Japan, Korea, Alaska… Even Washington State…. But it was obvious when they didn't come by the end of 2021 that there was something else that we needed to factor into our planning. 

Well this scientist—the oceanographer—he started talking about the trench… um… the Marianas Trench. You know, in the Pacific? Supposedly it's so deep that you can put Mount Everest in it and it would still be submerged by more than a mile of water…

_[He chuckles wistfully.]_

I learned that from Trucy before the panic…. Maybe that's why it stood out to me…

So anyway, this oceanographer had this theory that the trench was slowing them down and that's why we didn't see them in Southern California and Mexico. But instead of brushing it off he was adamant about taking the opportunity of a delay to better prepare.

I guess the prevailing consensus was that the trench was deep enough to make a permanent barrier, that their zombie bodies would fall into the trench and condense into nothing. People like to think like that—with hope… Optimism… This scientist was pissing a lot of people off…

You see, he believed the swarm would be inevitable. The delay wasn't a reason to relax and let our guard down. He insisted it was only a matter of time before the bodies and detritus would create a bridge and they would move forward.

That meant arming the beachheads and training more troops.

Ultimately we were luckier than a lot of places further up or down the beach—not just because of the shape of the coastline, but because we had leaders like Shi-Long Lang, that always seemed to err on the side of caution. Guys that took advantage of the delay.

_**[So what made you join the Army?]** _

Actually, I didn't join the Army, I signed on with the State Militia—down in LA that was the 79th Infantry Brigade—part of the California National Guard. The Army—the federal Army, was struggling in those days—I'm sure you heard about New York?

_**[DC? Boston?]** _

Yeah, all up and down the eastern seaboard, Zack was already storming their beaches. So by the time our turn came around—a few years later, there wasn't much of an Army to speak of.

Of course, those guys in the regular Army had the experience and knowledge about the surges and swarms—especially after Yonkers. They knew more about how to deal with the ones that came out of the water. Obviously, they couldn't spare a lot soldiers to cover the West Coast, there were other hot spots across the country, so they sent us officers, and senior enlisted to help train and lead our Militias.

That's probably why a lot of folks give the Army so much credit—California made them look good too. But most of the troops were local guys. Just trying to keep our families and homes safe.

###### 

**February 23, 2022  
Ivy University Compound  
Los Angeles, California**

###### 

"Phoenix Wright!" Phoenix looked up startled from where he was sitting with twenty or so other people filling out application packets in the local reserve station. Lang was wearing his uniform—well uniform was a relatively broad term in the 79th—and he cut a sharp figure in his fatigues, faded as they were.

"Lang," Phoenix smiled at him and then glanced over at Apollo and Simon, the two younger guys he'd brought with him.

"They finally convinced you to get your head out of the sand and fight the good fight?"

Lang joined the three of them at the table they shared, still grinning at Phoenix, "How's the baby?"

"He eats well," Phoenix chuckled and turned his attention back to the packet in front of him, "Yours?"

"Oh you heard? Another girl," Lang said, "Franziska is inconsolable…"

"She wanted a boy?"

"Well… She does her best,"Lang's smile faltered momentarily and he glanced away, absently smoothing the blouse of his fatigues, "Is Maya really okay with this?"

Phoenix met his eye directly, "I can't even look at them knowing that there's more I can do."

Lang replied with a knowing, tight-lipped smile, "I think that's what bothers her the most… I'm pretty sure she's still upset with me about the first one…"

"A lot of people died," Phoenix frowned somberly, "It's not really a bad thing."

He flipped the page in the packet, "I just hope I'm not too old for this…"

Lang laughed, "It's not something we worry about here—as long as you're fit enough to march and shoot and kill zombies…"

Phoenix laughed, "Tell me they won't send me home for having a bad back."

Lang shook his head, "Wright, you shouldn't tell me that shit…. But honestly, a willing hand is worth his—or her—weight in gold…"

Phoenix smiled and went back to answering the questions.

"What are you, thirty now?" Lang was eyeing him sidelong.

"Something like that," Phoenix met his eye and smirked, "If you went by how I look—most people guess twenty-five…. If I had to estimate based on my back—sixty-five…"

Lang laughed aloud, "Stop saying that shit, you realize I'm in charge of new accessions during this recruiting drive? If you've been injured—"

"I'm fine, man," Phoenix flipped the packet over, "A little apprehensive…. I never figured I'd be starting something new this far along…"

"So I heard you used to be a lawyer…"

Phoenix looked up from the packet and met Lang's eye with a frown, "In another life… yeah…"

"I heard you were pretty good," Lang rubbed his chin contemplatively.

Phoenix smirked, "Did Franziska tell you that?"

Lang chuckled and glanced over at Simon and Apollo who were pretending to be very engrossed in filling out their application packets, "I'm pretty sure she's repressed all memories of you in the courtroom…. But Miles talks about you like you were some kind of hero…"

Phoenix bit his lip, "I didn't know he was back."

Lang shrugged, oblivious, "Nah, he transferred to a unit over in Glendale—so he's closer, but not back. He comes by for dinner once in a while—it's nice having someone else for Franziska to whip besides me…"

Phoenix laughed at that and then scratched his eyebrow, "Anyway, as far as the lawyer piece, I was disbarred—before the panic even… So I wasn't that good…"

Lang was serious again, rubbing his chin, "But if you were a lawyer, that means you have a college degree…"

"That is a reasonable deduction…"

"Because I need guys to lead…"

###### 

**May 16, 2053  
Stand Up! SoCal  
Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

_[Apollo's mustache is even more powerful than I remembered. He smiles before ushering me inside. His home is tidy, spartan, and utilitarian, but it looks lived in.]_

_**[Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.]** _

Oh, it's not a problem, I didn't have a lot going on tonight—not a lot to do after dark, right?

_[I relay to him my purpose—the Battle of Santa Monica for one. As well as the upcoming dedication ceremony.]_

_**[Did you serve under Phoenix Wright?]** _

Not directly—Colonel Lang tried to avoid that—you know having us in the same Platoons. Mister Wright was field commissioned right after basic—we were all in basic together—me, Simon, Athena… Clay…

But Lang was very careful to split us up, especially in the field.

_**[Was that like The Sullivans? His reasoning, I mean?]** _

Who knows? Probably. But that's American history—Lang was from Zeng Fa… But it made sense you know. In a citizen militia the guys you fight with are neighbors… Friends… Family….

It changed the dynamic…

Being soldiers together—it makes you close…

So being soldiers with your neighbors, friends… Your brothers… It took it to another level.

_**[So you weren't at Santa Monica?]** _

Oh no, I was… By that time, the Army had brought in their planners—so we got Colonel Edgeworth as the regional commander… So that means Southern California all the way to the Mexican border and the entire Central Corridor outside of the Bay Area. The 79th had Los Angeles, and our Battalion incorporated into the Brigade…

Foxtrot Company had the beaches—so even though he was in a different platoon, we were both on the beach that day.

_**[Was Miles Edgeworth at Santa Monica too?]** _

Knowing him, I don't doubt that he was…. But I didn't see him…. You have to remember, I was an infantry grunt. My ass was in the sand…

Colonel Edgeworth was the acting Field Marshall—he would've been at HQ planning and directing—rumor was he used to go out with the tanks when we were in the thick of it… I believe it… Because I watched him dispatch a half dozen of the monsters with a rusty replica sword…

That guy really hated zombies…

###### 

  
**March 18, 2022**  
**California National Guard Regional Reserve Center**  
**Long Beach, California**

###### 

"Hey, Mister Wright?"

Phoenix winced, before turning toward him. That voice, that timber… It could only be Apollo Justice.

"What are you doing here? You'll get another demerit…"

"I promised Trucy I'd keep an eye on you Mister Wright," the young man's stare was determined and hard.

"Well, it's not worth it if you're going to be reprimanded…" Phoenix lay back in his assigned cot and covered his face with a forearm, "You better get out of here…"

"I'm fine—I'm not worried, sir," Apollo had sidled up to his cot so that he was hidden inside the makeshift partition Phoenix had put up for a bit of privacy, "Plus everybody wants to know if there's any news."

Phoenix made an exasperated noise—he was tired and he was hoping for some quiet rest. Lang had been good as his word, and he'd been field commissioned almost immediately after the abbreviated and strangely focused basic training provided locally to the region. So he wore Captain's bars now and he was in charge of some forty soldiers—none of whom were Apollo Justice…

"Apollo…"

"Corporal Justice…Sir…"

Phoenix pulled his arm away from his face and glared at him, "So you're just going to pick and choose which orders you want to follow?"

Apollo was standing at parade rest—shoulders squared; feet spread shoulder width apart; hands clasped behind his back—even though Phoenix was lying down—and it drove him crazy. Slowly, Phoenix pulled himself upright and glowered at him, "Look, Corporal… Every time you pull shit like this you're ignoring a lawful order—you can get an Article Fifteen for this…"

Apollo wasn't meeting his eye, throwing his thousand yard stare directly ahead. Phoenix grimaced, "Apollo…"

"She wrote me, sir," Apollo said stoically and Phoenix shook his head—she still hadn't written to him.

"Do you know how they're doing?"

"There's rationing on flour again… So Maya's been cooking a lot of rice… But she didn't have anything else to complain about. I guess Pearl is planning to sign up with the Guard too—medical though…"

Phoenix swallowed—it all felt like it was unraveling around them…

"But what about Trucy?"

"She doesn't want to leave Maya and the baby…. She said somebody's got to take responsibility…"

"Okay," Phoenix muttered—he didn't trust himself to say anything more just then.

"I don't know if you've heard anything new, Sir?"

Phoenix shook his head, "You better get out of here before we both get in trouble…"

Apollo popped to attention and saluted before dashing out of the tent he shared with thirty other officers. Phoenix stared at the space he just vacated and gnashed his teeth.

His neighbors on either side were out—there was another bonfire on the beach tonight—so they were out with the troops. Building rapport… Camaraderie…

There was a lot of talk about the danger at the coast. You couldn't go very far without getting an earful or seeing the signs of a ramped up and desperate recruitment. But that didn't mean everyone agreed with it.

Phoenix choked, sitting alone in the dimly lit tent, the sound of the generators buzzing in the periphery, and seeing those blue eyes angry, accusing…

_But Daddy… Why do you have to do this?_

He turned over onto his stomach and buried his face in the tiny foam pillow the Army had given him. It felt like playing soldier. The intervening weeks had been a blur of activity. Small arms drills. Trenches in the sand. Field rations with a few thousand of your neighbors and friends…

_When you left for Kurain everyone thought you'd died…_

People had a lot to say about courage these days. Maya had tried to console the both of them before he 'shipped out'. But then, he'd rescued Maya—and she hadn't known he was coming. Despite those horror filled memories of being alone with the moaning and the derelict feel of a dying city—he wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to help.

_You don't have to prove you're bravery, Daddy… Nobody doubts it…_

After the argument that night, she refused to look at him. Then, all too soon, it was time to go.

_Because I don't know how I can deal with you dying again… Daddy…_

They weren't far… The unit was grouped in Long Beach. There was talk of his platoon joining the flank in Santa Monica… But these places were all in the neighborhood…

_Don't leave me again, Daddy…_

Phoenix sobbed into his pillow until fatigue dragged him into the respite of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phoenix is commissioned as an O3 for pay and administrative purposes, but due to his lack of experience he’s working the the capacity of an O1 or O2...
> 
> Because I’m certain you really wanted to know...


	3. Street Sweep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I did mention this was a zombie apocalypse story... didn’t I...? Well, it’s a zombie apocalypse story...

## Chapter 3

# Street Sweep

### 

**May 16, 2053  
Stand Up! SoCal  
Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

_[Phoenix frowns and looks out of the window. Then he shakes his head.]_

No. It wasn't. I guess a lot of people have this idea that there was something exciting or adventurous—but it wasn't like going off to fight a war. We were still home!

_[He makes an exasperated noise and slumps in his seat, placing a hand over his eyebrows.]_

There's nothing comforting about that.

Well, so anyway, after training, and a few weeks of patrols near the Reserve Center in Long Beach—Lang sent my Platoon to meet up with the rest of Foxtrot Company. Mostly so we could help with the clean-up effort. Stuff like making sure the way was clear so we could move quickly North or South as needed. Foxtrot Company had the entire coast from the Palisades to Torrence Beach—so the last thing we wanted was to be halted by the derelict cars and rubble.

You have to remember too, that even though the National Guard was in the middle of swelling it's ranks right then, and we had no idea when we could expect them to come out of the ocean, there was still a lot to do. The city was a mess.

Long Beach was one of the first places to be secured, because the National Guard already had a solid presence there. So most of our focus was going to be the beach Northwest of LAX. Basically we had to clean up the coast from there to Santa Monica.

**_[Clean up the coast?]_ **

Yeah. Doesn't sound very glamorous does it?

_[He chuckles.]_

So yeah, it was maybe fifteen miles up, and the 405 had been mostly cleared up by then so they literally drove us—my Platoon, Klavier's, Mitchell's—and what what his name…? Anyway they drove about two hundred of us up to Marina Del Rey, dropped us on the south end of Venice Beach and told us to "get cracking".

Our job was to widen the useable road along the beach—which meant knocking down a lot of the boardwalk—reinforcing areas so that we could bring equipment through. It was a little heartbreaking—all those beach-side shops empty… We had to clear them away so the BSB could come in behind us—you know to bury the dead and set up the roads.

_**[Were there still Zombies in those areas?]** _

Oh yeah. Not a lot. Ones and twos, holed up and forgotten in the rubble. At least we didn't have to do the remains… BSB had remains. Our job was to eliminate the threat, with Zack that means incapacitating them so they weren't threatening.

_**[Like what? Decapitating Zombies?]** _

You have to do a little more than that. You actually have to remove the jaw. Because those heads will bite. Hands and major limbs were important too—if they didn't have anything to swing at you, you were going to be all right. We were pretty well trained on how to do that—incapacitating them—then BSB would take all of the bits and box them up so they could be buried as they came through behind us.

_**[They buried them?]** _

There were several pits—have you been out there? There's a granite marker on each one denoting the year and month it was filled in…

Anyway, Support Battalion's job was to dig the pits and they layered the bits in there—with lye or something, sometimes they burned them—and they would layer them until they were full, then bury them.

_**[Wait every one of of those mounds on the coast…?]** _

_[He gives me a stern pointed look, eyebrow cocked.]_ Yeah. There were about four million people in LA when this went down… What do you think happened to the bodies? That's what cleaning up meant. If we were going to protect the beaches, we couldn't have any surprises rising up out of the city behind us.

So yeah, the Army's main job was gathering up the dead and securing the city. So we spent the next couple weeks going up Oceanfront Walk—clearing away everything from there to Ocean Ave. Once the beach was opened, we went inland—like maybe five or six miles a day. Just cleaning up.

###### 

**April 3, 2022  
South Venice Beach, Marina Peninsula  
Los Angeles, California**

###### 

" _ALL I WANNA DO! Is have some fun!_ " He shouted more than sang as he walked along the beach while his men were spread along the other side of Oceanfront Walk clearing brush and debris. 

" _ALL I WANNA DO! Is have some fun!_ " They replied in chorus. 

" _I GOTTA FEELIN' I'm not the only one!_ " He cradled the Lobo in his arms at the ready—like they'd been trained. 

" _I GOTTA FEELIN' I'm not the only one!_ " 

" _ALL I WANNA DO! Is have some fun!_ " 

" _ALL I WANNA DO! Is have some fun!_ " 

" _UNTIL the sun comes up over SANTA MONICA boulevard!_ " 

" _UNTIL the sun comes up over SANTA MONICA boulevard!_ " 

" _Otherwise the bar is ours!_ " 

" _The day and the night and the car wash too!_ " Phoenix grinned, he wasn't sure who it was, but it was probably Lieutenant Gavin—Lieutenant Gavin loved to sing. 

" _The matches and the Buds and the clean and dirty cars!_ " 

" _The SUN AND THE MOON!_ " 

" _But, ALL I WANNA DO! Is have some fun!_ " 

The road they'd cleared reached Santa Monica shortly after noon and several trucks from FSB were already using it to set up the encampment on the far side of Colorado Ave Northwest of Santa Monica Pier, in what used to be a parking lot.

The troops were allowed to spread out on the beach. Phoenix brought his guys together in formation and did a roll call before allowing his men to do the same.

It's not too soon to make a habit of this.

They didn't cart around rucks like the regular Army—in fact none of their backpacks really matched. Like the rest of his squad, he wore a dark tee shirt and denim jeans in one of a range authorized blues—most of the 'uniform' was provided by the individual soldier.

No one had helmets although headgear was authorized. Only the officers were prescribed ball caps—plain black with the rank embroidered on the front and the unit, Company-Battalion/Brigade stitched on the back.

And haircuts—in the California National Guard?—ain't nobody got time for that!

Phoenix stood in the sand and hitched his own backpack before pulling off his ball cap and running a hand through his spikes, and he surveyed his troops. It wasn't like the movies in his platoon. Guys ranged in age from their late teens and into their forties—the need for personnel was greater than the long-term development of soldiers.

The platoon sergeant—SFC Rainier, was actually a younger guy who'd been promoted through the ranks—he was only a couple years older than Phoenix. There were several privates in the platoon too who'd joined late. Guys in their forties. PFC Daniels stood out because he liked to talk back and ask questions. He was an executive at some internet service firm or something before the panic—but there was no internet anymore.

There was PFC Sidaris, originally from Missouri. Everyone called him Hollywood, because he was an actor before the panic—mostly television bit parts and commercials. Then there was Ed, Edd, and Eddie—PFC Wilson, PFC Connelly, and PFC Wu—none of whom were actually named Edward or Edgar, who joined mostly so they could eat and have a place to stay. Crip—SPC Harris—was from Inglewood and was in prison before the panic. PFC Bingham, who they called 'Ham' was a personal trainer who used to love coming out to muscle beach before the panic—he actually lost it when they cleared out that part of the beach.

It was Phoenix's first real test as a platoon leader, trying to console that guy, while keeping the other guys on task.

That first day had been pretty easy, they'd cleared about five miles of oceanfront walk by lunchtime and were allowed a four-hour siesta. In the afternoon they started inland—Zack didn't like the sunshine so much—so they had a relatively easy time of it that first night. When they returned to camp that night and settled in, Phoenix felt some relief—this might not be so bad after all.

But as he drifted off—housed in a cramped tent with the forty or so guys in his platoon—listening to the steady beat of the ocean, he was reminded all too clearly of what they were preparing for.

###### 

**May 16, 2053  
Stand Up! SoCal  
Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

_[Shi-Long Lang doesn't reply. He just grins his lupine grin and takes off into the back of the house. He returns several minutes later with what looks like a sheathed sword and a long-handled spade with an axe blade on either side.]_

This is the Standard Infantry Entrenchment Tool—a.k.a the Lobo… I like to think it's called Lobo like a wolf—but I heard it's actually short for 'lobotomizer' because it's great for smashing zombie heads.

_[He turns the lobo in his hands and chuckles.]_

What do you expect from something the Marines came up with? Now this beauty—

_[He sets down the Lobo and holds up the sheathed sword.]_

This is the M11Mod4 Mitsurugi.

_[He draws the straight double-edged blade from it's black synthetic sheath. It's blade is dark gray with a smooth matte finish]_

The blade is straight—like a jian—which is a traditional Chinese sword. Twenty-eight inches and round tapered at the tip. The blade is parkerized to prevent oxidation and you can see it has an eight inch ricasso for close quarters fighting.

A lot of guys liked katanas—but you know what? There's no art when you're fighting zombies. Having the double edge gave you more flexibility.

It's light—not quite two pounds. The pommel is designed for one or two handed use—which also gives it a unique balance.

_**[These were more effective than guns?]** _

Definitely. A bullet—even a larger caliber is rarely enough to knock down a zombie, and in close quarters which was much more common on a battlefield with the mindless walking dead, guns really didn't do you a whole lot of good.

This was light enough for most troops—including females. You could take out two or more with a well timed swing, just letting it follow through.

_[He gazes lovingly at the blade as he slides it into it's sheath.]_

You won't run out of ammo. You don't have to change out magazines.

###### 

**April 16, 2022**  
**Santa Monica State Beach**  
**Santa Monica, California**

###### 

They walked back toward the blazing lights set up around the encampment.

"Doing all right, sir?" Sergeant Rainier elbowed him as he came up from behind.

"Yeah," Phoenix said, "I'm fine. You?"

"It's bullshit," Rainier replied, "I'm pissed."

"It won't change anything," Phoenix glanced at his platoon sergeant, "We just have to keep going."

"We need to do something about Meekins, sir," the sergeant spat, "we could've lost somebody—"

"But we didn't," Phoenix interrupted him, "This hasn't really even started yet. I'm not going to start beating these guys down—"

"How else are you gonna train them?" the platoon sergeant grabbed him by one of his backpack straps and turned him around, "Sir, I know this isn't where you're coming from—but we don't have the luxury of giving these guys the benefit of the doubt."

"In this case we do, Sergeant," Phoenix's glare hardened, "So let's leave it at that. Brass is coming up to look at us tomorrow, we've been poking in the bushes and chasing out Zack day in and day out for a couple weeks—everybody's stressed."

"We can't afford it if Meekins—"

"What's your problem with Specialist Meekins anyway? I think he's pretty solid—the guy was a cop!"

The platoon shuffled wearily into the close confines of their tent. Phoenix dropped his gear and went to the shared latrine to wash up.

It made him throw up the first couple times—now it was like washing any old dirt off his hands. _Funny how quickly one adapts to these things._

The rows of portable sinks were surprisingly empty—usually a run like today followed by the prospect of chow had the latrines packed with soldiers. He scooped up some of the pumice soap from one of several cans left out for their use and started scrubbing his arms all the way past his elbows—like a surgeon. Well, technically it was human guts—so yeah, he was kind of like a surgeon.

He was still rinsing suds from his forearms when the other guys from the platoon trickled in. Phoenix looked around quizzically at them, none of them seemed very willing to make eye contact with him.

"Guys?" Phoenix grabbed his towel and began wiping his arms, "Come on, guys…"

Phoenix yanked off his filthy t-shirt and balled it up with the towel—man he could use a nice bath. A soak in the tub. One night without the grime and the stink and the never-ending sand.

He stopped Sergeant Rainier on his way out, "We'll pow-pow in fifteen minutes."

"What about chow?"

"This won't take long," Phoenix turned away from him as he spoke and headed back to their tent.

It was deserted in there—well everyone had gone to the latrine after him…. He didn't dwell too hard on this as he made his way toward his cot and went to dig out a clean t-shirt. He sat on the cot and pulled the shirt over his head and that's when he noticed the sobbing.

Phoenix stood and pulled his shirt the rest of the way on and looked around the deserted tent. Wait, there was one guy lying in his rack. Phoenix grimaced and went to his side immediately.

Meekins was tied up to the cot so that his feet and arms were extended and he'd been gagged with what looked like some dirty socks. He was crying and shaking.

Phoenix pulled his utility knife from the sheath on his belt and started to cut him free. He could feel the anger boiling up in him then, realizing that his platoon had felt the need to take matters into their own hands. He tore the rag from Meekins's mouth and the lanky young man coughed and sputtered.

"Are you okay?" Phoenix put a reassuring hand on his back.

Meekins nodded, still sputtering.

"Who did this?" Phoenix's glare turned hard and he frowned, but Meekins only shook his head.

"You're not—! Just tell me who did this, Meekins!"

Meekins sobbed harder and shook his head more emphatically.

Frustrated, Phoenix stood and pointed toward the tent exit, "Just! Just go get cleaned up!"

They started trickling back into the tent about ten minutes later. Phoenix was sitting on his cot staring at the lobo he'd discarded beside his bed and frowning blankly. The sharpened edges took on the natural color of the carbonized steel it was made of and stood out almost white against the blackened metal parts of the rest of the tool. Except where there was still some red and brown from the blood. He didn't stir as his soldiers gathered around him.

The edge of the spade had one golden hair stuck to the ichor on the blade and it teased the air as it tried to float away.

"Captain?" Sergeant Rainier was right in front of him, arms crossed and grim, "You wanted to talk to us."

Phoenix sighed and then looked around at them in turn. He stood slowly, frowning, and brought his hands to his hips.

"This will only take a few minutes," he began and sighed again, "Good job today—every day. This shit sucks… I know that every day we go out there you're trying your best. Everyone is trying their best. But we're a team. But the next time anyone feels the need to take matters into their own hands you're going to wish you hadn't."

He clenched his fists because his hands were starting to shake, "I don't care whether you all had come to a consensus or if it was only one or two out of the group—this whole platoon is going to feel it. Do you understand me?"

"Sir, yes sir," came the chorus from the group.

"Kaye…" Phoenix paused to try and calm himself down, "Go get chow before they run out of whatever's good."

He sat back on his cot as they left the tent. The golden hair on the lobo had caught his attention again as it strained against the sticky filth that held it to the blade. He blinked. He wasn't sure if it had been a boy or a girl. But it was at least eight—no more than ten years old. Phoenix swallowed and then reached for his used towel and dirty shirt and wiped at the spade on the lobo before shoving it under his cot so he didn't have to look at it.

_It's funny the things you adapt to…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ‘lobo’ is from World War Z... it’s basically a shovel head with battle axe blade on either side...
> 
> So most of you probably recognize the name “Misturugi” but it gets even better than that!!!
> 
> The Tsurugi is an ancient double edged sword that has shown up in Japanese myth and legend (think the ‘grass cutting sword’ that inspired Link’s spins attack). Also using the alternate kanji in mitsurugi-changes the name to beautiful sword vice heavenly sword. The prefix “Mei” in Chinese is also the first letter in the Chinese word for the United States...
> 
> Just when you thought it couldn’t get any nerdier....


	4. California Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Zombie death... Graphic depictions of Phoenix Wright shaving his face... Tupac References...

## Chapter 4

# California Love

### 

**May 16, 2053**

**Stand Up! SoCal**

**Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

He is a warrior. Tireless… Fearless… _[She turns away from the window and hides the smile that had crept over her features for a moment.]_

I did much work for Interpol before the panic. I had come to the zenith of my power and influence in the small district courts here, so I longed for something more and greater. That is why I began my work with Interpol. It is through my work with Interpol that I met Shi-Long Lang. He was an investigator with Interpol.

_[She pauses and turns back to the window.]_

He joined the National Guard right away. The investigation of international crimes was less of a priority after the panic... He was trapped here in California, just like I was.

_**[You felt like you were trapped here?]** _

Yes I felt that way. As the world fell apart around us, it was easy to be resentful about it. But I didn't feel that way after we'd come to the University—especially after we found Miles. They were all the family I needed.

_**[How did you cope with Shi-Long Lang's service with the Guard?]** _

I don't like the separation—who would want that? But I knew he was doing his part for California, for our family and friends. When Mei was born, I went through most of the pregnancy without him. That was difficult. But he was here for the birth.

He… He is a good father.

###### 

**April 17, 2022**

**Santa Monica State Beach**

**Santa Monica, California**

###### 

"Happy Easter!" Phoenix paused and turned to see who it was.

Easter Sunday in the field was just another Sunday in the field—well, maybe the Chaplain had more to talk about. He shook the razor out in the water and then set it on the edge of the portable sink where a two-by-four had been jammed against the wall to create a narrow shelf.

"Shi-Long Lang," he forced a smile in the other man's direction.

"You're not going to come out?"

Phoenix only shook his head solemnly and then picked up the disposable plastic razor and went back to shaving.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Phoenix shook his head, "Feeling a little homesick…"

"But we're home…"

"You know what I mean," he looked over to see that Lang was standing next to him now, "What are you so cheerful about?"

Lang shrugged, "I'd rather be at home—home, home… But we're here. Because they need us here. So one must make do with what one has available. Lang Zi says no matter where he is, a wolf will howl at the very same moon."

"Oh right…" Phoenix said, and grimaced at his own reflection in the plastic mirror—foggy and distorted as it was.

"How much longer do you need?"

"For what? I was going to go to bed after this," Phoenix didn't pause.

"What about dinner?" He could see Lang's blurry reflection in the mirror behind him, crossing his arms.

"Look, I know you're just trying to make sure I'm included but I really just—"

"I could order you to be there," Lang said leaning into him, violating his personal space.

Phoenix grit his teeth and tried not to flinch, "How is that a lawful order?"

"Maybe it's not about you Phoenix Wright—what about your soldiers?"

"I still don't see how my being there will affect 'my soldiers'," he straightened and surreptitiously took a step away from Lang before wiping his face.

Lang shook his head and laughed, "Is it the Army? You really don't like the Army do you?"

"I don't hate the Army," Phoenix turned to face Lang and leaned his back against the sink, "I don't like being a soldier… But I want to do my part… Just don't ask me to smile and party about it."

Lang grinned at him and clapped a hand on each of his shoulders, which were still bare from the showers, "Delta Company is here too," Lang eyed him pointedly.

"What is Delta Company?" Phoenix crossed his arms over his bare chest, feeling uncomfortable about Lang's touchy-feely approach, "Why should I care?"

Lang stepped away from him suddenly, hands clasped behind his back, "Oh, it's the heavy weapons company in the battalion."

"Okay," Phoenix glared at him now, _this was ridiculous._

"Larry Butz?"

Phoenix dropped his arms and stared at him open mouthed, "You mean… Larry, Larry? That guy's a company commander?"

Lang waved a finger at him, "Heavy weapons, company commander."

Phoenix smiled, "So that's where he took off to…"

"Larry got very excited when I told him you were here," Lang quipped with a chuckle, "He said you were one of his very best friends."

"Larry said that?" Phoenix scratched his head sheepishly.

"Yes," Lang said, "In fact a lot guys from the old University group are here right now."

Phoenix made as if to step past Lang and leave the latrine, "Well, doesn't your Battalion have the beach from here to Torrence?"

Lang shrugged but made no move to get out of his way, "Our Battalion, Nick… But Brigade is here too."

"Yeah I heard," Phoenix said, "is that why you want all of us out on the beach tonight? To do a little dog and pony for you, Colonel Lang?"

Lang laughed, "Miles is the acting Brigade Commander, he came in with Delta Company—apparently he likes big guns."

Phoenix met his eye and paused to swallow back a sudden surge in emotion, "I appreciate your concern, _Sir_ , but I think I'm going to bed."

###### 

**May 16, 2053**

**Stand Up! SoCal**

**Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

_**[What was it like working for Lang—in the Guard?]** _

_[He chuckles at the question.]_ Shi-Long is a great guy—he's head of security here now. But it was a little weird—because guys like him and Miles went into the Army in one way or another way earlier than me. I mean he took care of me, they were definitely grooming me to be there with them—to lead and make decisions.

_**[You didn't want a leadership position in the military?]** _

I wanted to help people—but making decisions about how to kill and _[he shudders]_ dismantle… people… It's not pleasant.

_**[But you served for almost ten years…]** _

_[He smiles sheepishly.]_ Time went fast during the War. We stayed in California for most of it—so I could visit Maya a couple times a year. There was the first couple years—doing the clean-up like we talked about. Then they came out of the ocean. It was worst in the early weeks. They would come out in small groups and we would get rid of them quickly waiting for the surge. Then the surge started coming—and I mean days, weeks, months… I had no idea what day it was. They still came pretty steadily until the fall so the time just flew by.

Then we left the beaches—after establishing defense posts out there. They asked me if I would stay in Santa Monica—it was close to home and I had the experience I needed by then. I did do a stint there—three years, because the kids were very small.

_**[What made you go East?]** _

I followed Miles…. I mean he came with me on that hopeless suicide mission to save Maya and Pearls…. I felt like I owed him.

_**[You marched two-thousand miles East because you owed a guy a favor?]** _

_[He laughs and shakes his head.]_ We lost a lot of guys that first summer. That was hard. But I think it brought the rest of us closer together. I didn't just owe 'some guy' a favor…. I owed it to the guys we lost too—the families they left behind. The young guys that followed us out there, like Apollo and Simon…. There were a lot of factors.

 _[Phoenix wipes his face, but doesn't meet my eye.]_ I guess too—and this was kind of a prevalent feeling in those later years—but I guess if we were fighting zombies away from home, it meant they were away from our homes. Like we could chase them all the way into the Gulf of Mexico…

I ended up going back to California after Shreveport…. I couldn't… I just couldn't… not after…

I think I did a few more years in Santa Monica and Ventura Beach… but honestly, I was done with the Army after Shreveport…

###### 

**May 7, 2022**

**Santa Monica State Beach**

**Santa Monica, California**

###### 

"In the city…" Crip and Johnny B took the lead in calling cadence, because Phoenix didn't really know the song and they were louder, "of LA…"

"In the city of LA," Second platoon of Foxtrot company replied in chorus.

"In the city… of good ol' Watts!"

Repeat.

"In the city… the city of Compton!"

Repeat.

"We keep it rockin'!"

Repeat.

Phoenix raised a fist suddenly and signaled for them to cut it out, and as one the platoon went down in the rubble and brush. Phoenix waved Specialist Meekins to join him where he was at the head of the column. He winced, squinting through the fog and feeling sand grit in his teeth.

The men were silent and stretched along the beach and Phoenix could only hear the pounding of his own heart filling his ears in the eerie silence. He startled slightly when Meekins' lanky form crashed into the bank beside him, his equipment rocking precariously on his back.

Phoenix had his binoculars up and was scanning what he could of the beach while Meekins tried to get a hold of Company on the satellite radio he held. Meekins tapped Phoenix and shot him a thumbs up, and Phoenix nodded. Meekins began reading out their grid coordinates.

"Visibility poor—about two miles," Phoenix said and Meekins passed the info along, "Second platoon has confirmed auditory contact from the west."

Phoenix heard the moaning again—the same moaning that brought on his order to halt and seek cover. It seemed to echo through his body. He glanced down the line and saw Sergeant Rainier looking in his direction. Phoenix acknowledged with a nod and then tapped Meekins' arm, "Well?"

"They're not able to confirm—because of visibility…"

Phoenix cursed and motioned for Sergeant Rainier to join them. The Sergeant dashed over, keeping low and dropped into the sand beside Phoenix opposite of Meekins. He was panting slightly.

"Can't see shit," he said.

Phoenix was scanning the beach again, "But there's a group of them, and we're not going to lose this fog until the sun is up…"

"What do you think? Couple dozen?"

"Yeah, less than thirty," Phoenix put away his binoculars, "I'm not going to wait for Company to get their heads out of their asses…. Pick your squad, and hit them straight on. Meekins you're gonna hold this position—have the Eds stay with Meekins—everyone else is coming with me."

"Where are you going, Cap?"

"We're going to run up the beach—a quarter mile or so and flank them."

Orders went down the line quickly and before he had a chance to second guess himself, Ed, Edd, and Eddie, dragged themselves into the sand around Meekins and Sergeant Rainier and his section mounted the bank and started running down the beach. Phoenix got to his feet and waved an arm.

He put his head down and started to run. He could hear the quick movements, the brush of clothing, the rattle and jingle of their equipment, and their breathing. Their footsteps were silent in the sand.

He could feel his own nervous tension twisting more tightly in the pit of his stomach as he ran and tried to keep focused. The fog left them damp and the sand stuck to the exposed skin of their arms and faces. Phoenix paused and turned his section back toward the ocean. The breeze was chill coupled with the damp fog, but he could smell the briny smell of the ocean and hear the pulsing sound of waves. Along with the stench of decay.

Shouts and moans as Sergeant Rainier made contact with the still invisible ghouls and Phoenix turned the section one more time. They were there all too soon, coming up behind the stumbling group already engaged with the other half of the platoon.

Phoenix raised his lobo and gave a shout. The other men were beside him, shouting in chorus now. Before he could be overwhelmed by the fear and apprehension—by the rotting, dead fish smell of zombies that had spent months under the ocean—he brought one of the lobo's axe blades across the ghoul that materialized in front of him. He took its head clean off.

Phoenix didn't stop to find the head—it wouldn't be moving very far or fast now and instead shoved the spade into the throat of the next zombie knocking it down and leaping over it without pause as he lifted the axe blade and let it cleave another ghoul from its collar across its rotten neck to its chin knocking it down and stepping right into its shriveled, bony chest as he lifted the lobo to swing at a ghoul that had just passed him on the other side. This swing caught it in the ribs and held it fast as one of his soldiers—he thought it was Ham, took off its head.

It was over in minutes. Phoenix stood over his troops as they went around incapacitating the monsters—taking off limbs and heads and jaws and piling the parts together. The fire burned off the fog around them, and Phoenix could see the embankment where Meekins and the Eds were waiting.

While the fire blazed on the beach, the steady pounding of the waves layered the roar of fire with a steady cadence.

"California Love!" Crip started up again as they stood watching the fire burn down.


	5. Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: 
> 
> _With their tanks and their bombs_  
>  _And their bombs and their guns_  
>  _In your head, in your head they are crying_
> 
> **Zombie... if you didn’t get it....**

## Chapter 5

# Before the Storm

### 

  
**May 16, 2053**

  


**Stand Up! SoCal**

  


**Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

**_[Apollo Justice furrows his brow in contemplation before running his hand over his mustache.]_ **

I felt it coming... A lot of us did…. Klavier—well, when he wasn’t complaining about his hair—he used to have all of these crazy theories about how it would go down.

**_[Klavier Gavin was in your Platoon?]_ **

He was my Platoon leader, actually. Klavier already had a couple years with the Guard by then. He was already prosecuting before the panic—so they commissioned him pretty early on.

**_[When would you say it began in earnest?]_ **

I would say it was the end of May—beginning of June. Between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day—not that I had any reason to celebrate— _[he laughs suddenly and slaps his knee]_. They began trickling out of the ocean in pairs or threes…. I’d say around Easter. By the end of the first week of May, we started to see them come up in groups of ten or more.

**_[With all of the stories about Yonkers, did you think you’d be overrun?]_ **

Not really—not at first. I mean they came up so slowly at first. It became almost too predictable on the beach. By the time things started getting complicated, we were seeing three and four dozen at a time. By the end of June—summertime—they suddenly seemed non-stop. Wave after wave of them came. _[He frowns and shakes his head]_ It got to where it seemed like they were coming up on the beach without pause. Just this never-ending horde of ghouls. Sometimes two or three days went by without a break—you had no idea what day it was.

###### 

**May 21, 2022**

  


**Santa Monica State Beach**

  


**Santa Monica, California**

###### 

“Stay in line!” Phoenix shouted—partly to get his mind off of the horror on the beach before them—partly to bolster the forty-two guys in his platoon.

It was at least noon, but probably later, and the eager sunshine already teased of summer as it beat down on them from it’s zenith. The fog had cooked off long before, so the horde of sixty or seventy ghouls slowly ambling against the line of his platoon was clearly visible. They’d been on the beach since zero four thirty.

Phoenix felt his panic rise at the sound of Daniels’ ragged breathing beside him. It was hard enough to keep them in line—to gauge when the current squad should disengage so the reserve could take their place.

The wet, sharp pungency of rot mingled with brine was heavy in the air around them—but they were used to it. So they stood fast and held the line. The sand around them was churned horridly with old blood and ichor. Still the ghouls moved forward. Slowly, predictably, but oh so steadily.

Phoenix gave another shout—no actual words, but a grunt to get the attention of the men to either side of him. They started to back away and at Phoenix’s signal they turned and jogged back up the beach where the reserve squad was already running down the beach to take up their line.

He paused on the rise and counted the guys that had come back with him—everyone was accounted for. Phoenix lay back in the sand and tried to catch his breath. Sweat dripped into his eyes, but he was afraid to wipe his face—his hands were probably covered with guts.

Meekins was lying in the sand beside him, wheezing and panting. He had a smear of dark blood across his forehead, he probably had less qualms about old blood on his face than he did about sweat in his eyes. Phoenix turned to his other side.

Daniels was panting into the sand, lying on his side facing Phoenix arms clutched over his chest.

“Hey… Daniels…” Phoenix managed between breaths, “Hey…”

“Cap…” Daniels didn’t look up from where he lay.

Phoenix ran his hands through the sand and then dusted them off on his jeans before wiping at the sweat on his forehead. Then he pushed himself up to survey the twenty guys in the sand with him. They all looked exhausted and were lying behind the ridge in some state of breathless agony in both directions. They’d been rotating like this every half-hour or so since they encountered the first ghouls at about zero eight—and the troops were starting to fade.

Phoenix looked over at Meekins, he was still struggling to catch his breath. He pushed up from the sand and crawled over to Meekins on his hands and knees. There was a tremor in his arms but Phoenix pushed it from his mind—these guys needed him to keep it together.

“Hey… Meekins…” Phoenix plopped into the sand right beside him, “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Great…” Meekins sputtered between breaths, “I’m… good… Cap…”

“I need you to call into Company,” Phoenix said, “It’s gotta be after noon by now…. First platoon should’ve been here by now.”

Meekins sucked in a shuddering breath and paused—an obvious attempt to calm his own nerves—“Sure… Cap… On it…”

Phoenix patted him between his trembling shoulders and then pushed himself up to look past Meekins.

“Crip,” He said, “Doing okay?”

“Cap…” Crip acknowledged with a thumbs up.

“Hollywood?” Phoenix continued down the line, crawling past Meekins and Crip.

“Let me at ‘em…” Hollywood panted, “Let me at ‘em Cap…”

Phoenix patted his knee and kept moving, “Jones, Anderson?”

They picked up their heads and gave him a thumbs up.

Phoenix pushed himself all the way up and leaned to stare at the guys at the end of the line, he held out his hand in a thumbs up. Ed, Edd, and Eddie responded in kind, and the guy at the end, Corporal Terran, sat up and yelled, “I’m fine, Cap!”

Phoenix chuckled and crawled in the other direction, pausing beside Daniels, who seemed to be calming down.

“Hey…” Daniels said, “I’m good… Cap…”

“Alright,” Phoenix said and continued to the other end of the line.

“Any luck?” Phoenix grunted at Meekins as he dropped beside him again.

“Company acknowledged, but they’re saying First Platoon is here already…”

Phoenix grimaced, besides his own men and the ghouls themselves, there’d been no signs of anyone else on the beach. He yanked the radio out Meekins’ hand, startling the other guy badly enough that he cringed away.

“Foxtrot this is Captain Wright, Second Platoon—where the hell is First Platoon?!”

The radio fizzed and popped in reply and Phoenix glared at it in his hand.

“Foxtrot!” Phoenix yelled into the comm unable to hide his desperation, “Foxtrot! This is Captain Wright!”

The radio fizzed again, ”Duuuude! Is that the sultry voice of Phoenix Wright?”

Phoenix groaned, the situation was quickly deteriorating, “Who is this?”

“Nick! It’s me!” The reply fizzled through, but even the static couldn’t hide the jovial lilt in the voice, “It’s the Butz, Dude! Delta Company!”

“Larry?”

“Yeah, man,” Phoenix could almost hear the stupid smile on Larry’s face and felt his stomach knot up in horror.

“Larry, where’s the rest of Foxtrot Company?”

“I don’t know dude,” Larry said, still incongruously cheerful, “Where are you at?”

Phoenix looked over at Meekins who already had the map out and was refolding it to recenter on their area. He started to read out their coordinates and Phoenix repeated them to Larry.

“Kaye… Gimme a sec,” Larry mumbled after reading them back to someone on his end, “We’re approaching you from the North… About two, three thousand yards…”

Phoenix paused considering this, “Larry, where’s the rest of Foxtrot?”

“Don’t worry about it dude, do you have anyone on the beach?”

“We’ve been engaged since about zero eight Larry… seventy Zees…”

“Shit dude,” Larry said in a tone that still didn’t seem to grasp the severity of the situation, “We’ll be there in five, get your guys off the beach Nick.”

“What? Larry?”

“Get your guys off of the beach!”

###### 

**May 16, 2053**

  


**Stand Up! SoCal**

  


**Southern California Greater Metropolis, California**

###### 

**_[What happened to Larry Butz?]_ **

_[Phoenix Wright smiles.]_ I haven’t talked to him in a year or so now… But he had a shack out in Yosemite Valley…. He paints or something…

**_[Paints?]_ **

He started calling himself Laurice Deauxnim—couple years before the panic. While we were dealing with the murder of Misty Fey… He kind of slid back into that after the War…

**_[So was Larry at Santa Monica?]_ **

Oh yeah. His was one of two heavy weapons companies in the battalion, so he was kind of a big deal. None of us really gets how or why Lang pegged him for Heavy Weapons—but I’ll tell you what, a lot of us were glad he did. We wouldn’t have made it through Santa Monica without Larry. 

**_[Did Larry go East with the rest of the Brigade? Was he at Shreveport?]_ **

Yes, of course. We were a unit. _[Phoenix smiles again and shakes his head]_. I think back then no one thought twice about it. Like I said, it felt like we were pushing them away from our homes. So we went East like we didn’t have another option.

###### 

**May 23, 2022**

  


**Santa Monica State Beach**

  


**Santa Monica, California**

###### 

_“Cah-LI-FORN-ya Girls…”_ a couple of the guys were singing in a very ugly falsetto, _“we’re UN-for-GETTABLE! Day-ZEE DUKES—biki-NIs on TOP!”_

Phoenix let the water from the shower head pelt him—he might’ve laughed if the last couple days hadn’t been so grim. If he hadn’t been so dog-tired.

 _“SUN KISSED SKIN!”_ The chorus had become shrill and some of the guys started chuckling. Phoenix covered his face in his hands.

No one from First Platoon had survived that day. The only guy he’d known was Kristoph Gavin—but he felt the pain and fear of such a near-miss. _It might’ve been his platoon instead._

He’d run out there himself to get Sergeant Rainier and the rest of the platoon off of the beach. They were still running toward the rise on the beach when the rattle and hum of Delta Company filled the air around them. Meekins was talking to Larry on the radio and Phoenix gestured and nodded, letting him know that they’d retreated back up the beach.

When the guns fired he remembered covering his head in his arms, feeling the sound boom through his chest with each steady shot. The percussive booms echoed in his mind, drowning out the sound of water. The men singing. The pounding of his own heart.

Before he’d realized it, Phoenix had squatted to the floor, face buried in his arms. _It might’ve been his platoon instead._

“Hey Cap?” Sergeant Rainier tapped the heavy rubberized canvas that made up the shower wall.

Phoenix froze and then slowly, stood up, “Yeah?”

“Brigade wants to see you at four—it’s three now.”

“Did—did they say why?”

“No, Sir,” Rainier said, “Just passing the message.”

“Thanks,” Phoenix said.

He was grateful that Sergeant Rainier didn’t hang around, and finished up in the shower quickly. He stepped out of the shower to towel off—the guys were rapping now.

 _“Kiss her… touch her… Squeeze her buns…”_ It sounded like Johnny B; the other guys whooped and laughed.

Phoenix walked over to the other end of the Latrine, where he’d put his clean clothes to keep them from getting wet and began to dress quickly.

_“The girl's a freak… She drive a jeep… And live on the beach…”_

He was still tugging his tee-shirt over his head as he walked out of the latrine with his flip-flops and jeans. He entered the platoon’s tent tugging his shirt straight before sliding the bottom hem of it into the waist of his jeans—he probably had to look presentable for Brigade.

Most of the guys were still inside the tent, some talking softly together, some sleeping still…. Meekins met his eye as he passed but didn’t move from where he was lying in his cot hugging his pillow. His eyes were rimmed red with emotion.

Phoenix didn’t bother him—they were all still trying to accept what had happened. He sat on his cot and pulled on socks and his boots.

Brigade had asked all of them, Company Commanders, Platoon Leaders, to join him in the mess. So Phoenix wasn’t the first one there. Smoke and steam from the cook fires wrapped the tent in a gray-white haze. He stepped inside and gazed around at the gathering of officers, before finding a seat near the side of the tent away from the bulk of the crowd.

The smell of food cooking filled the tent and Phoenix felt his stomach lurch in protest. He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, covering his face in his hands. He sat like that until they were called to attention. Brigade swept in with two other officers and stood in front of the group. Phoenix didn’t understand why it struck him so hard—it’s not as if he hadn’t known. But then, he hadn’t seen Miles Edgeworth since the wedding. It was only a few months ago—but so much was different since then.

Edgeworth’s eyes were dark in the poor lighting inside the mess and he gazed around the room, stoic and expressionless. He put them at ease and bid them sit, in the close, quiet tent, he didn’t bother to raise his voice.

“I’m sure you’re already aware of what happened two days ago,” he said grimly, “We’re not going to speculate about it here.”

Edgeworth looked heroic standing at the front of the group, broad shoulders squared, his posture almost too erect. Phoenix was having trouble listening to what he was saying.

“The fact of the matter is that we’ve finally arrived at what we’ve been dreading; what we’ve been anticipating. They’re here. There’s no question about it now. The coming weeks will get hard—harder than anything we’ve seen yet on this coast. But this is not the first surge we’ve seen. I promise you there will be an end.”

Phoenix dropped his eyes to stare at his trembling hands—their last foray on the beach had been hard—nightmarish… endless…. But according to Edgeworth, this was just the beginning. While Edgeworth continued to address them regarding the coming surge and the Army’s plan to stand off against them, Phoenix’s thoughts brought back images of Daniels lying in the sand, panting and exhausted. The high whistling sound of Meekins’ breath wheezing. The look of the sand churned up on the beach colored by the dark fluids that leaked from the ghouls as they felled them. His hands still shook from the hours they’d spent swinging that lobo again and again into the wall of shuffling zombies. The smell of blood and decay.

“Therefore, it’s critical that we keep our ground. The minute they get past the beaches, all will be lost.”

Phoenix swallowed. The entirety of First Platoon had been lost that day. No one talked about the details. It was too recent, too fresh, too gruesome…. Even Larry seemed a little haunted by what happened. And nothing ever seemed to deter Larry.

_It might’ve been his platoon instead._

He was lost in his own swirling, dreadful thoughts as Edgeworth continued to address them. So he missed it when Edgeworth finished and they were called to attention as he and his entourage departed. Instead Phoenix remained seated, staring blankly at the table beneath his hands. Hearing the growls and moans of the approaching Zombies.

_The minute they get past the beaches…_

He thought of Maya and Trucy and Pearls…. They’d already survived so much….

“Captain Wright.”

Phoenix startled and stared up to meet those stormy gray eyes. He felt embarrassed, shocked and stood abruptly and held himself at attention despite the sudden dizziness that hit him.

Colonel Edgeworth smirked, “Sit down.”

Phoenix shakily took his seat and looked shocked when Edgeworth joined him. The other members of his entourage paused around them not sure what to do.

Without taking his eyes off of Phoenix, Edgeworth said, “Leave me—I’ll come find you at HQ in a few minutes.”

“Sir—“ One of them began.

“Now,” Edgeworth said.

Phoenix stared sidelong at him. Edgeworth smirked, “How are you, Wright?”

“I’m… I’m great…. Doing great…”

“You look terrible,” Edgeworth’s eyes filled with concern, “You’re thin...”

Phoenix turned his gaze back toward the table, “I’ve always been... sort of...”

Edgeworth smiled, “I mean you’ve gotten thinner since the last time I saw you...”

“Miss that home cookin’....” Phoenix grinned shyly, “You look amazing… Except for that haircut…”

Edgeworth reached up and tugged at the hairs that had grown long enough to hang over the edge of his scalp, “Yeah—so I’ve been told. I haven’t cut it since…”

Phoenix shook his head, not meeting his stare.

“I know you’re in Foxtrot Company… I heard about…”

_It might’ve been his platoon instead._

Phoenix shook his head, feeling a sudden choking rise in emotion.

Edgeworth put a hand awkwardly on his shoulder—he’d never been adept at this kind of comfort.

“Is there something I can do to help...?

Phoenix dropped his head into his arms and cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Ace Attorney and all characters are copyright by CAPCOM; World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War, all incidences and characters were created by Max Brooks. I'm just a fan, imitating. The stories presented are influenced by the multiple games as well as the comic (Manga written by Kenji Kuroda), and the book World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War.
> 
> This story is set two years following Bridge to the Turnabout (Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney: Trials and Tribulations) during the height of the Zombie War.


End file.
